Home Alone
by 221BSexySt
Summary: When John gets home late he finds Sherlock doing something he never thought his brilliant flat mate ever did and he can't help but watch. (Johnlock)


Title: Home Alone

Author: 221B Sexy St

Rated: M (For Sexual Content)

Summary: When John gets home late he finds Sherlock doing something he never thought his brilliant flat mate ever did and he can't help but watch.

Disclaimer: No characters are mine, if they were, this would be in the tv show.

It was well past midnight when John got home from his date with Sara. He would've stayed over at her house overnight but he had decided against it for some reason. He came into the flat as quietly as he could and climbed the stairs to his and Sherlock's flat. His mouth became dry during his evening out with Sara so he decided he would get a glass of milk before heading to bed. Praying that Sherlock hadn't drank the rest of it like he always did and left the empty carton in the fridge. John hurried into the kitchen taking off his coat and hanging it over one of the chairs as he went over to the fridge. That's when he heard it… It was a muffled cry from down the hall. It was coming from Sherlock's bedroom. John cocked his head to the side in confusion looking down the darkened hall. He wasn't sure what he had just heard…Suddenly the cry came again, this time less muffled. John suddenly became alarmed. The noise sounded an awful lot like Sherlock and it sounded strange. It was a noise that he had never heard Sherlock make before. However it sounded like he was in pain. _Maybe someone broke into the flat… Maybe there's someone in there torturing him. _John thought with much apprehension. What should he do? Call Lestrade? Or maybe he should go in there… If Sherlock was in fact being tortured John might only have a few moments to help his friend before the intruder - John's thoughts trail off down a path he didn't much like.

So the army doctor decided he would quietly go down the hall and try to listen in on whatever was happening. Hoping to God that it wasn't someone hurting Sherlock or God forbid something worse. Once he was by the door he could try to figure out how to help. John silently crept down the hall toward his flat mate's room. It had gone silent again and John became more scared for Sherlock's safety as he neared the door. There was a dim light that poured out from under the door in front of him, however John couldn't hear anything. No shuffling of an intruders feet, not clicking of a gun, he couldn't even hear Sherlock's muffled grunts now. _What was going on? _John thought desperately. John noticed that the door was just barely ajar, just a sliver of a crack, but just enough so that John could peer in. So the army doctor leaned in with extreme care and pushed the door just an inch so he could look into the dim room. Suddenly John heard Sherlock's strangled voice again along with the sight of Sherlock's naked body writhing from side to side in his bed with just a sheet wrapped messily around his long, bare legs. John almost let out a gasp at the unexpected scene before him. John's eyes grew as he realized what his friend was doing.

John watched with wide eyes as Sherlock held his hard, throbbing cock tightly in on of his calloused hands. The other was up under his head gripping onto his blacked, curled locks of hair. With every pumped of his fist Sherlock yanked on his hair at the same time as if willing himself to be quiet. John knew he should walk away, he should just turn on his heels now and go get some bloody milk and go to bed. But that's not what he did. Sherlock's face showed impatience at his own touch. Suddenly he thrust his hips up into his hand and in the same motion turned his head to the side toward the door and buried his face into his pillow. John almost ran down the hall as he seen Sherlock's head turn toward him into the pillow but he had saw that Sherlock's eyes were shut tight. _Probably some way to enhance the sensation. _John thought to himself. Then without even realizing what he was doing, John slowly reached one hand down to palm his half hard cock in his tight tan trousers. He watched as Sherlock tightened his grip and thrust his hips up again and again. The same strangled, muffled grunts and moans came from his as before. Sherlock let out a long, sustained groan into the goose feather pillow that the young detective's face was buried in, and John could feel his member twitch just at that sound. _What am I doing here? I have to leave. I shouldn't be watching this… _John thought bitterly. But he just couldn't tear his eyes away from Sherlock's throbbing cock. John slowly unzipped his trousers and reached in to take hold of his own, now rock hard, cock. He could feel the blood pulsing through the member even through the thin fabric of his underpants. He stroked himself up and down as Sherlock became more vigorous with his actions.

Sherlock suddenly without warning turned away from John toward his other nightstand, John felt himself slouch and become disappointed at the absence of Sherlock's hardness. John watched intently as Sherlock got into his side table drawer. John couldn't see what he was doing, but he watched Sherlock's defined back muscles move as Sherlock searched for something. Unfortunately the consulting detective's arse was covered by the thin white sheet that was entangled in his long legs. John sighed in that disappointment as well. Sherlock rummaged in his drawer and quickly found the small vile of lube that he hurriedly opened and covered his fingers in. John sucked in a tight breath as Sherlock ripped the sheet from his body and bed and he bent and lifted his legs up so that his knees were by his head. John watched as Sherlock reached in-between his legs and made an obscenely lustful noise that rumbled from his throat with ease. John couldn't see what he wanted due to the fact that Sherlock's long legs were in the way… Also John was just in a bloody awful spot to see Sherlock's arse, seeing as the door was by the head of Sherlock's bed. John was desperate, he so badly wanted to get closer but he settled for listening to Sherlock's moans and gasps to finish John off.

Sherlock ran his long, curled fingers up and down his shaft, slowly at first. With his other hand he slowly worked his first finger, covered in lube, into his wet inviting slit. As soon as he was to the middle knuckle he let a lustful sigh mixed with a word that John was **not **prepared for.

"John."

The man in the doorway froze; his hand now on his bare cock and flushed with lustful thoughts he stared in horror at the man on the bed. _He knows I'm here. _He swallowed his fear as he soon realized that Sherlock had no knowledge of John's presence as Sherlock continued to say his flat mate's name as he fingered himself slowly.

"John…John…_John…Bloody… __**fucking**__….Watson." _With each word Sherlock pumped his shaft roughly and fucked his arse with now two slender fingers.

Hearing his flat mate do this inherently makes John want to fuck Sherlock's face. He so desperately wanted to go in and just shove his throbbing cock into his flat mate's arse and hear the detective scream his name. But he knew he couldn't. He closed his eyes a moment and pumped himself harder, twisting at the end and running his thumb over the sensitive tip. It felt so bloody fucking _good. _He imagined that it was Sherlock's hand that wrapped around his member instead of his own, Sherlock with his long seductive fingers caressing John's tender flesh. John ran his finger over his tip again and stifled a moan with his other hand as it clamped over his pursed lips. Sherlock groaned and raised his hips up off the bed as he added a third finger and began to scissor himself open.

"Oh dear _lord._" John whispered to himself as his eyes focused on Sherlock's angular hips as the wriggle under the tension that was building in the detective's loins. Sherlock's legs separate more as he works his fingers in and out of himself, biting his bottom lip turning it momentarily white.

"John…" Came Sherlock's raspy voice. John shuddered but he also paused in stroking himself. Something was different about the way Sherlock had said his name… Almost like he…

"John, I know you're out there. It wasn't hard to deduce. I could hear your panting a mile off." Sherlock stated breathlessly, and John could detect the outright lust in the consulting detective's statement. John wasn't sure what to do, should he just leave now and forget this? Should he just finish himself off in the shower or in his bed in his cold, dark, empty room?

"John, don't make me get up to get you." Sherlock warned with a grunt. John's eyes grew. Sherlock was inviting him in? To watch? To participate? Whatever it was John was _**all **_for it. At first he had been unsure for his feelings for his flat mate, but over the past few months the two had gotten even closer than before. John shouldn't really have been surprised at this invitation, he had suspected that Sherlock liked him as much as he liked the detective. But alas, he still found it almost inconceivable he would be with a man, with Sherlock no less! How could someone so intelligent, cunning, witty, snarky, antisocial, and absolutely brilliant want to be with someone so plain, and boring. These were the insecurities that hung harshly on John's heart as he entered Sherlock's room slowly. He came in and went around to stand at the end of the bed so he could clearly see what he had been itching to observe. Sherlock's fingers were all the way inside his plump arse and his hard, full cock was lying on his abdomen. John eyes were glued to this sight.

"Are you going to disrobe or will I have to do that as well?" Sherlock smirked as he pulled his fingers almost completely out of him and then harshly shoved them back inside, he moaned extremely loud as he had just grazed his prostate with the tip of his longest finger. John's erection twitched at this and he quickly began to take off his remaining clothes.

"You _better _bloody fucking hurry." Grunted the very naked Sherlock that now lay before John's eager self. John had stripped himself clean and was standing in front of Sherlock, feeling very exposed. He glanced down at his hard shaft and reached toward it.

"Stop." Sherlock instructed sternly. John looked up, confused.

"What is it?" John asked a bit annoyed.

"Come here." Sherlock replied. So John crawled onto the bed up toward Sherlock. When he reached eye level, hovering over Sherlock's naked body he suddenly tensed. _What was he doing?_ But then Sherlock reached up and caressed his face with his soft hand. It was so soft, and delicate. Completely different from his own calloused hands. Then with the touch of Sherlock's soft, flushed lips on his he stopped his worrying about what other's might thing and just _melted _into the feeling of Sherlock underneath him.

"You thought you were home alone." John mused as he reached down in between their bodies and took ahold of Sherlock. _This _felt right. Sherlock moaned at the touch and then paused. He thought a moment and looked up into John's hungry eyes and smirked.

"Yes… And you thought_ you_ were straight."

_Fin. _


End file.
